Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Back when the words were plentiful,(which was pretty much all my life.)I would go on a walk (my meditation)and if I went without paper,I could be seen running back homelike something was chasing me....but really?I WAS chasing something, the words,I had to catch them before they went onto someone else who was more available.(This is NOT unique to me, many peopleof words describe something similar.)It is true if you do not write it down thewords are gone and lost to you.Today, as I made my mental list of thingsto do on my walk, mail this, finish the floor,fix that sprinkler, start lesson plans... blah blah.The faces of the Sandy Hook Childrencame to me with a force, I couldn't ignore!The faces I had been postingon Facebook daily.(With great heartbreak and an often 'challenged' level of commitment.)The ones I now know by name and all thethings they loved to do and wanted to be.These beautiful innocent childrenhave made such an impact on our nation,our history, hopefully the course of future laws,their little lives, a more powerful voice thanany who knew them would have imagined for them.Today, someone private messaged me asking,"Why, was I doing the posts daily?Had she missed something?"It was a good question.But the answer was not simple. It had started out as one thingand then became another, something I hadn't expected.So I ran home,through the wash, my pouty dog behind me, her walk cut short,I forgot my list and wrote this down.The news of the shootings, crippled me,wore heavy on my days,(like a lot of us)And as a new teacher, it flattened me, while lifting me to the height of an imagined 'mother bear'with equal the strength.Knowing, I would stand in front of any oneof them, if the unthinkable occurred.They belonged to me. They are mine, which, I have to say was a delightful surprise to me.And almost immediatelymy teaching philosophy and attitude changed.These are little people with wise, funny, spiritshungry to be seen, adored and successful.My style suddenly relaxed and I began to fall in love instead!Fall in love with their innocence rather thantheir "good results" or "why are you doing THAT?" behavior.I often suffer from loneliness and depression.

The balance between a social personaand the creative fire that requires a solitary existence,

is a constant battle and source of frustration.

The Holidays, of course, the most daunting challenge.

Truth told, I am not a fan

and I could just as well do without them.

Facebook provides me with a window onto the world

and connects me from my own office/studio, in between creative adventures.However virtual my friends are, I am grateful!

There is much that can be said about Facebook,

both negative and positive. Drawbacks and enhancements!

But social media has a large role in our technology based society,

like it or not. Like anything in life,

we must ask ourselves, "How will I use this for good?What is my intention?"

Early on, I decided to have guidelines.

My personal standards being only post

to inspire, promote or entertain!

Often with cryptic form of poetry or a short storytelling language.

(Trying my best to adhere to that,

admittedly, I fell short on occasion. Sigh!)

It was a playground, an audience for my words,

and since I wasn't writing anything else,

it was a manageable format.

The weekend after the shootings.

I had watched nothing about it, but was weighted by it, like the rest of the world!

A friend's post suggested to dedicate one day,

for each person with some act of kindness,

I loved the idea! Seemed like

a way to take action in a helpless "just stand by

and watch and grieve" situation.

A local Zumba teacher, a woman of great inspiration,

and followers, joined me in this collaborate task.

And we committed to doing it, daily together.She did better than I.

Because with the first post of Charlotte Bacon,

I realized I didn't want to do this, I couldn't do this!

It was too much a vacuum of grief, to start everyday with,

researching their stories,

see their shining faces in photos,

weeping over the words written about them.

And WHAT was my intention after all?

Being my nature is about mostly living in kindness anyways,

I REALLY, didn't want to report on that publicly or daily!

And mostly I did NOT want to draw any attention towards myself

on the wake of a tragedy, I didn't 'personally' belong to.

So that first day, I dropped the ball.

But a promise is a promise!

My intention cleared and I decided to get to know them,

by telling their story, one for each day.

And I fell in love with one after another.

Thought about them throughout the day,

carried their smiles in my mental pockets!

Careful and creative about the words

I could best use to honor their lives.

Without realizing it, I was writing again, just short stories, about what I knew of these "little lightworkers"

and their heroic teachers,

'my words' returned in the course of this promise.

And THEY really are magic makers, change creators, little big souls.

These "Indigo Children" have done much already,across the country.

They reminded me how important our stories are

(the obvious shortness of life)and that as a writer, it was my job,

NO, it's my privilege to pass it along!

(Minus any applause or appreciation for my actions.)

Like a ripple or a flame, it is a vibration that has the power

to create a planetary shift and redefine the tragedy.Sometimes that is ALL we can do!

Yesterday, when I stood with a friend,

in front the current People magazine,

I pointed to each one of them on the cover,Chase, Jesse, Daniel, Grace, Anne Marie,Josephine, James, Olivia, Catherine....

and told her what I knew about them.

They weren't just faces to me anymore,

they belonged to me,

they were 'my children', I had been touched

and honored by their shiny, charming, wondrous bright spirits.

These children, these teachers, belong to all of us!

Thank you, for following me in this tribute and

as we head into a new year of great possibility, please remember them and watch for the miracles

they will most certainly make happen...not because they... died but because they 'lived'!

Sunday, December 30, 2012

It's been almost a yearsince I have typed a single word on this page.Having circled it again and again,unable to even read my former posts.Wishing tho, I had completed part two,of 'The School Of Seuss',(it contained some pretty witty stuff.)Because this time last year,a different life was in motion.Dreams realized and beginning,creatively on fire, every door in my house, papered to capture the flow,great fame and fortune attracted and promised.And one point, I knew had it all,even said it outloudI was being paid to illustrate a children's book,And? I was in love!Life couldn't have been any richer.But what followed was a year of great grief andoccurrences that broke me in waysI have never known or could have anticipated.Creativity had always been my souls language,the written word the air I breathe,constant and without cease, the flow endless.Even as a kid with band aid covered knees,to the insecure teenager with a blemished face,the natural desire to write in prose,guided me through any dark nightthat threatened to yank mefrom my spiritual self.It was the Voice that called my name,infused me with wisdom and purpose.My trust in it was without question...my relationship consistent and loyal, I had never known a time without it,...ever!But this ability suddenly left me.With the arrival of an email, one day last May.An email that cancelled out nine months of labor,a contracted storybook of rhymes.Suddenly, the pink poetic rabbit gone,the book unfinished, contract breached,a public promotional campaignceased embarrassingly and without conclusionand the unresolved absence of the one 'someone' loved.All whipped away at once,in a dark gray summer wind.With them, went all my words as well.A kind of debilitating feverof anxiety prevailed.And I was financially, emotionally, spirituallyand creatively bankrupt.
That was six months ago,I am less so.Journeys' have surprises, twists and turnswe don't even see coming.The loss of one thing becomes the birth of another,and as human spirits we learn to beginand begin and begin.We trust and trust some more,despite the contradicting evidence.Cause that one path traveled may morph into aa yellow brick road that has a destinationyou never considered exploring,a place you can't remember even wanting to go,complete with little 'munchins' to lead the wayand a band of fellow travelersto cheer you along.Don't get me wrong,I haven't exactly found my way to OZor back home yet....but this is a beginning and I need to begin.So why not here?Cause I have a story to telland in the past?My words couldn't resist being apart of a good story!Granted, it doesn't feel like the "old" magic has returned yet,the words still stiff and formal from their slumberbut we are getting reacquainted againand trying to figure out WHO,really, abandoned who?Pam Reinke -Piper Rain

I am a writer
a journal keeper, committed
to recording my celebrations,
my struggles, my loves & my losses-
It’s the air I breathe.
I am a poet,
of interpreted silences,
a simple voice of common words.
Sometimes serious,
sometimes silly!
I am an artist, an illustrator,
a teacher,
by degree & by nature.
I love the whimsical
and wild things
of children
AND adults who
remember what it means
to be curiously imaginative....
still wild, still free.
I am a woman,
a woman becoming,
a woman whose journey's been to
believe in my own voice and power,
and to become the sky!